Past in the Present
by doodleauro
Summary: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley... These are all names of the most brave heroes in the Wizarding World. But even heroes have to cope with the after effects of a war.
1. Chapter 1

"Could I get a little help over here?" Neville asked.

Hermione Granger snapped back to reality and nodded, walking over to Neville and helping him lift a body from the ground. Hermione hadn't recognized who it was when she first sighted him, but now, she clearly knew who this person was.

Hermione bit her lip and blinked back some tears. _How could they?_ she thought deplorably. She couldn't believe that there were still hundreds of bodies in Hogwarts. The battle had been won, but precious and beloved friends and family had been lost. She stared back again at Colin Creevey's unblinking eyes. She already knew his life had been lost, but it was just not fair.

"Neville?" said a low misty, dreamy voice from the door. "Your grandmother's arrived."

Hermione drew away her tears with her sleeve and looked at Luna. She had several bruises and cuts in her face and arms, but other than that, she looked perfectly healthy.

"Right." Neville mumbled as together they set Colin tenderly in a warm corner of the Great Hall. Neville looked up at Hermione, smiled slightly and left with Luna.

"See you." Hermione muttered as they walked away from the Great Hall, hand in hand. She was too sad to do anything productive, so she decided to take a nap back at the dormitory.

As she reached the empty portrait of the Fat Lady and groaned, a strong, firm hand took a hold of her arm. Hermione's eyes jumped out of their sockets and she brusquely turned around, wand raised, at the sudden movement. She was about to hex him, but as soon as she looked at his face, she changed her mind.

"Not going to hex me, aren't you?" he chuckled unhappily.

Hermione lowered her wand and smiled compassionately.

"I wouldn't dare."

"Good."

Ron took a hold of her hand and sighed.

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

Hermione hesitated, not wanting to make this more difficult than it already was, but decided to speak nevertheless.

"How's... How's George?" she said in a voice barely more than a whisper. She felt Ron's hand stiffen in hers and heard him gulp.

"I-"

"Bloody hell!" Ginny Weasley exclaimed as she jumped up the stairs. "There you are! I've been looking all over the place for you two." she scolded them.

"Ginny!" Ron said as he rolled his eyes, pecked Hermione on the cheek and stepped to the side so Ginny could embrace both of them in a tight hug. After a few seconds, Ginny took a step back and glared at them.

"This is no time for snogging."

Ron's ears turned beet red.

"We weren't snogging!" he yelled. "We were just-"

"Yeah, yeah." Ginny interrupted with a wave of her hand. "Have either of you two seen Cho?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, perturbed.

"Cho? Did something happen to her?" Hermione asked. Ginny did not particularly like Cho, so the sharp tone in her voice only meant something was wrong.

"No... I think." she answered quietly. "Her parents and siblings arrived a few minutes ago. They're mad, I tell you. They all wore Tornadoes badges. Sick..."

Hermione frowned at Ginny. Honestly, that wasn't really important right now.

"What do you mean _'I think'_?" 

"Oh!" Ginny squeaked. "I've forgotten!" she smiled apologetically and ran back down the stairs. Ron chuckled and pulled Hermione by the hand to the Fat Lady's empty portrait, flicking his wand to open the portrait, and into the Gryffindor Common Room. He sat her down in an arm chair near the fire and sighed, pacing in front of her.

"Fred's funeral will be on Thursday." he started slowly. "So that means we still have a few days left to help here and spend some time alone." he looked at her eyes for a second and the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Honestly, Ron. Don't be giving yourself any ideas," Hermione said flushing.

Ron stopped pacing and smirked.

"_You_ _kissed me."_ he laughed softly.

"As a matter of fact, I did." she said hotly. "And that won't be happening again any time soon, seeing as it's rather _amusing_ to you-"

He put a finger to her lips and chuckled.

"Anyways, we'll help and spend some time together." he continued, ignoring her frown. "And after Fred's funeral you'll go back to Australia... And that's that. Isn't it?" he finished wistfully.

Hermione feeling entirely confused, merely nodded.

"And I'll leave for three months, but you'll be all right... Won't you?" he said, not daring to meet her eyes.

Hermione didn't even know what happened, because in that moment, Ron was holding her in his arms, stroking her hair and murmuring that everything would be all right. That he'd send an owl twice every day telling her about his day. Hermione couldn't help but cry her eyes out, splashing tears all over his jumper. After a few minutes (or hours), Hermione looked up in his eyes, a fresh wave of anger filling her completely.

"Why are you leaving?" she asked abruptly.

Ron took a deep breath and held her right hand between both of his.

"George isn't-" he took another deep breath and closed his eyes. "-when he saw Fred's corpse-" Ron was now squishing Hermione's hand with heartbreaking sadness. He looked into her eyes, and something in them inspired him to continue speaking bravely. "George is the saddest one of us all. He asked me to come run the shop with him for a while, since he has to reopen the joke shop. And I agreed. I'll probably only leave for three months, but it will probably be less time." he kept saying. "I really don't know if George will want to open the shop in the same place or if he'll want to relocate. The point is he needs me and-"

Hermione stood up, kissed his lips with sudden fierceness, and with one piercing look at his deep blue eyes, she said:

"I understand, and even if I don't want you to leave, I know you will, and you must." she whispered.

Ron stood up to and hugged her adoringly.

"Thank you, Hermione." he said squeezing her. He looked back at her, keeping his arms around her waist, and looked her directly in her eyes, a sudden passion flaming in his.

"I love you."

Hermione's eyes were now filled with tears as his lips softly pressed onto hers again.

"I love you too, Ron." she whispered, burying her face into his neck.

And even if he left for a decade, even if he left for a century, she knew her love for him would never die. This redheaded man was going to remain in her heart forever.

Hermione Granger flinched as the front wooden door sharply closed.

"Hi."

Hermione turned around to face him. He was wearing the saddest, most heartbroken expression she had ever seen him in. It was even more heartbroken than that time in fifth year when he had seen her all weak and crumpled after Antonin Dolohov's purple curse.

"Hello." she answered back as she stood up from the moth-eaten love-seat. She slowly made her way to him and managed a weak smile. He looked down at the floor, unable to smile back at her, and frowned slightly.

"I've got to help..." he barely whispered, his fingers twitched, and Hermione immediately put her hand firmly in his.

"Ron, listen to me-"

Ron's head snapped back to her. His blue eyes pierced her brown eyes, and for the first time, she truly acknowledged how much Ron was mourning. The usual sparkle in his deep blue eyes was long gone. Merlin, his blue eyes weren't deep anymore. All Hermione could see as she stared into his eyes was grief and exhaustion. The purple bruises under them somehow made him look much older and tired. He blinked twice, as if the sound of his name on her lips were foreign to him, and raised a hand, silently pleading for her not to talk about that right now.

She stubbornly took his hand again. Ron sighed, but didn't hesitate as Hermione raised their entwined hands and placed them over his heart.

"Ron," she repeated much more firmly. "look, I know you don't want to talk about this. And... I-I know it's hard for you. Really. I do. I see how much all of you miss him. I can see it your eyes. Ron, look at me." Hermione ordered, as he had looked down at his shoes. She took a deep, steadying breath and continued. "I know how much you grieve, and I can feel how much it hurts you, and George-" Ron flinched involuntary."-and Ginny, and Bill, Charlie, Percy... Not to mention your parents and I..." Hermione's eyes started burning, but she firmly shook her head and blinked to force the unwanted tears back into her eyes. "Ron... What I'm trying to say is, you can't keep hiding your feelings and attempting to escape reality. I truly worry and it hurts to see you like this. And sometimes I thought you'd never come b-back! And I know the war is over, but there is just this feeling lingering in the air, you know? I always worry you're not coming back, I-I-I..." The tears were now falling like a waterfall on her cheeks. "You're just so sad all the time! And then you leave me! The first morning I found out you'd left, I thought you h-had g-g-gone a-away f-forev-ver like, like l-last t-t-time!" Ron looked like he would willingly throw himself from the top of the Astronomy Tower at the sight of her tears. "But that's hardly the point!" Hermione continued blubbering. "The point is you don't even let me help you! You won't! Do you think I-? That I would-?" She flung her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. He automatically put his arms around her waist and hugged her closer, burying his face into the top of her head. He inhaled the scent of her hair, hoping it would relax him so he could speak.

"It's ok, love. It's going to be all right..." Ron continuously whispered while rocking her from side to side.

They could've stayed like that for hours, days, months, and neither of them would've noticed, for they were finally seeing each other again. Holding on to each other for dear life. Hermione closed her eyes and breathed his scent in.

"Are you all right, love?" Ron asked after a while. He shook his head at his stupidity and chuckled dryly. "That's a stupid question. You're obviously not all right." He cupped her face with his hand and gently wiped away the rest of the tears with his thumb. She smiled slightly at him and sniffed.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. I hate it when you cry." He leaned down and kissed her forehead tenderly. "Come on, lets sit down."

Keeping an arm around her, he walked them to the kitchen and sat her down on a stool. He sat opposite her, never releasing the hold on her hand. He looked at her, worry plain in his face, but there was something more, he was watching her as if she were some kind of sick pet who he would give all to so she could recover.

"Should I get us some tea?" Ron asked, breaking the not so uncomfortable silence. Hermione tilted her head towards their entwined hands, not wanting to let go, but nodded nevertheless.

"Thank you." she mumbled. Ron gave her a lopsided smile that made her melt in her seat, and a couple minutes later, set two mugs full of tea on the table. She took hers and gulped some tea down and set the mug back on the table. She looked back at Ron, who appeared to have been staring at her, and he smiled shyly and looked at the table. But not before returning his hand firmly back into hers.

"I'm sorry. I know it's not enough, but I truly feel that way." He said unexpectedly. Hermione turned her head slowly toward him and met his eyes. Yes, he was truly sorry.

"I just miss him, you know?" He whispered. "All of us do."

He took a careful sip of his tea, curiously looking at the skin in Hermione's finger. He started tracing the top part of her hand with his index finger in slow motion. She had to admit, even if she was extremely disappointed, that definitely made her feel wonderfully better.

Hermione nodded stiffly and she too took a sip of her tea.

"It's like George is waiting for him to reappear... He keeps saying half of a joke and smiles in anticipation for-" Ron gulped. "-Fred," Hermione sniffed. "To finish a joke." The hold on her hand tightened, she looked up to his face and saw a single tear running down his face and splashing on the kitchen table. Hermione hurriedly stood up and wrapped her arms around him, she could feel him shuddering, but he somehow managed to stroke her back reassuringly.

"Oh, Ron..." Hermione whispered sadly, wishing more than anything that this boy could somehow get the brother he'd so much loved back. He didn't deserve this...

_None of them did._


	2. Chapter 2

"Not again..." Hermione Granger muttered exasperatedly as the books she was clutching fell off her arms for the fourth time. She didn't have time for this. She needed to get to Ginny's room (who had kindly offered to share with Hermione), take the books she had borrowed from Hogwarts since their sixth year and pack them in her trunk, take a shower, do her hair, and dress herself up for today's event.

After many falls of the books and repeated curses uttered, Hermione managed to take them upstairs and was halfway through packing her trunk when someone knocked thrice on the door lightly.

"It's open." Hermione mumbled, though the person standing in the opposite side of the door clearly heard her.

"Ginevra wants to know if you wanted 'elp with your 'air."

Hermione stared fixedly at the contents of her trunk for a minute, then looked up to the stunningly beautiful part Veela named Fleur Delacour.

"I'd appreciate it. Thank you Fleur." Hermione answered with a faint smile.

Fleur nodded stiffly and walked out of the room without another glance back, but this didn't bother Hermione at all. Not because she was still jealous of her, no she had gotten past that a long time ago... It was just now normal to see sulking and grieving Weasleys more often these days, especially today. Hermione sniffed and got back to work. She knew exactly why the usual loud atmosphere at the Burrow was quieter than a Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Umbridge. No, today was a very hard day for the Weasleys, their relatives and friends. Why? Because today was Fred Weasley's funeral, that was why.

Hermione sighed and threw the rest of her clothes messily in her trunk. Apprehensively watching the mess within it, she closed it, feeling rather shocked with herself for her rebellious act. She pulled her trunk onto her bed, and walked to the closet the shared with Ginny. She already knew what to wear of course, she would wear a velvet black dress which was knee-length and soft. It had rather thick spaghetti straps, one sporting a black and grey flower. Hermione thought it was absolutely plain. She wasn't too convinced on the dress, she thought it resembled one of her great aunts, but she had swore to Ginny against her will that she would wear the damn dress to the funeral. She was being obliged to do so only because Ginny had found it very 'amusing' how, two days past, Hermione had tried on the dress and had strolled into the kitchen to find Ginny and ask her opinion on how the dress looked like. Hermione had been anything but surprised to see Ron sitting in a kitchen table eating onion soup and then noticed Ron had stopped eating just to gape at her with wide, adoring eyes. Ginny, of course, had noticed and cornered Hermione in their room to force her into wearing the dress later that evening, and Hermione never broke a promise... No matter how stupid it was.

So now she was to wear the dress to the funeral. Besides, a secret part of her loved how Ron had looked at her that day. Hermione glared at the dress and pulled it on. She then walked to the bathroom and looked at her reflection in the mirror for the first time in months. What she saw was not comforting. Her face had become thinner and paler than ever, giving her a look of a child that has been starving. Her eyes seemed wider and overall tired, and there were two dark purple bruises under each of her eyes. Her lips no longer gave a pink glow, they were as pale and white as her entire face. It made her seem older and wiser than a year ago. She pitied her reflection for a minute and heard Ginny open the door. Hermione exhaled slowly and sat on the edge of her bed, Ginny slowly made her way there too, and she started combing Hermione's hair, neither of them speaking a single word.

***  
>"Ginny, have you any idea where Ron is?" Hermione asked quietly. Ginny sighed and cleared her throat softly.<p>

"Er... Not yet. He should arrive in a few minutes, though. Him and George left this morning to retrieve..." Ginny cleared her throat again and frowned, looking down at the floor.

"Excuse me." she said abruptly and left the room without another glance back.

Hermione sighed. This was definitely as bad as she thought it was. In half an hours time, Fred's funeral would start, and the Weasleys now were pale, sadder and quieter.

Hermione walked downstairs to the kitchen, trying to avoid catching anyone's eye. She slumped down in a kitchen chair and propped her elbows on the table, laying her head in her hands and covering her face with them.

This was it. This was the day the family had been dreading. It was so horrible and difficult for Hermione to expect to go through this day, let alone a Weasley.

But they were going to get through this. They had to. They would pull through this somehow. Wouldn't they? Hermione asked herself.

Hopefully.

Hermione sniffed. She felt sudden prickling in her eyes. No, she told herself. She wouldn't cry right now. She had to be strong for George, for Ginny, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley... Harry... And Ron, her heart whispered.

She hadn't realized she was crying until she felt the teardrops fell into her lap. Hermione hastily stood up, wiped the tears away, and made her way outside for the funeral.

As she passed through the kitchen, she saw a lanky figure who was slightly shaking. Grasping the counter in the corner with all his might, there stood Ron Weasley, the boy Hermione Granger just happened to be in love with.

Hermione seemed to weigh her options; she couldn't decide whether or not to go and comfort him or if she should go and wait for him outside. Hermione obviously wanted to console him, she wanted to tell him everything would be okay, she wanted to take care of him like he always took care of her. But there was this voice inside her head telling her she should let him pull himself together and wait for him outside. Before she could reach a decision, however, another saddened Weasley appeared beside her.

"Hullo, Hermione..." George Weasley greeted her hoarsely. As Hermione saw him, his eyes were glassy and distant. He no longer wore that mischievous and alert expression he always had. Instead, George looked as if he'd just been attacked by a thousand dementors at once; his face was sheet-white, the shadows under his eyes a deep purple. Hermione couldn't help but gasping at what George had transformed into. Seeing him now, a stranger wouldn't believe he was one of the two who invented Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

"Ron..." George murmured. He glanced back to Hermione and said, "It starts in five." and left without another single word. At his words, Ron straightened up, wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve, and walked out of the door, seizing Hermione's hand on the way and dragging her outside. Even if his grasp was a little strong, Hermione was glad at the gesture that was so like the Ron before this dark period. He sat them down at the front, where Harry and Ginny were sitting too, hand in hand. Right behind them were Neville, and resting her head on his shoulder was none other than Luna Lovegood. Both of them flashed a tiny smile at Hermione, who couldn't help but grinning back at them. She turned back to Ron and slipped her hand more securely into his, running soothing circles across the back of his hand gently.

And then it started.

Bill and Charlie, both in the verge tears, carried a smooth, white marble casket to the center of the Weasleys' garden. They both slowly and tenderly placed it on the vivid green grass, and departed slightly away from it. On the other side of the garden stood George, who was looking miserable but determined all the same. He made his way to the casket, his crimson hair swaying slightly with the light breeze, he was careful not to meet anyone's eye. He stepped next to the casket and raised his head, taking a deep, steadying breath.

"Hello. Friends. Family... As some of you might know, Mum was planning to hire this little man who didn't know Fred at all, give us a speech about how great he was." George said gently, without a trace of anger or impatience in his voice. "I, of course, had to disagree. I wanted to tell you about Fred. I want you to love him like I did. Oi, Angelina, don't cry. He loved you so much, he wouldn't like to see you crying. Ever. And that goes for all of you." George said, as half the crowd, including Hermione, had burst into tears at the sound of Fred's name. Even George had to blink a few times to force away his tears, but he continued speaking, nevertheless.

"Fred have always been either very mature children, or very immature adults." The crowd let out half sobs, half chuckles. "Mum and Dad always said we enjoyed rule breaking since we learned to breathe." This time, tears were leaking out of George's eyes, but he quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand and continued speaking.

"Anyways... When Fred and I were young, we played 'Aurors and Death Eaters'. He would play Auror, I would play Death Eater. I remember this one time, we were playing, and the Death Eater (which meant I), killed the Auror, Fred, he got scared for a moment and he paled up and all. He said, 'Georgie... What if one of us actually dies someday?' and of course, back then, I though it impossible for one of us to leave the Earth while the other one coped with the loss. So instead I said 'Freddie, we should write our last letter, don't you think?'" George smiled sadly at the floor, tears running down his face. When he next spoke, his voice was hoarse and broke in some places.

"We started out writing some pretty weird stuff at first. I can still remember him muttering to his parchment; 'Mum, sorry, but Ron ate me. Don't worry, he'll puke me out soon. Love, Fred.'" he chuckled dryly. "But in the end, we both wrote real stuff for all of you. And he did, of course, urge for me to save it for future laughs... But I reckon he wanted you to know how much you all meant for him if his fear of leaving came true one day... So I'll be reading to you all," George took a parchment from his robes and gently unfolded it as if he were caressing a very delicate baby. "'The last letter to my family from Fred Weasley.'

"'My dearest family, I am so terribly sorry for letting myself get killed by a bloody Death Eater. It wasn't my intention at all to leave you all this fast. George has good reflexes, that's all, I swear.'" The crowd seemed to take in breath at the same time. Hermione glanced to her side and saw Ron's face full of flowing tears, his mouth slightly smiling at his brother's words. Hermione raised a hand and wiped the tears away, she then squeezed his hand slightly.

George cleared his throat and read on; "'So I'm writing this to you so you get to know how much I liked your company, no matter how much I bugged you. This includes Percy.'

"'Dad, thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for showing me how to be kind to my brothers and sister. Thanks to you, I realized I needed those gits as much as you need your Muggle thingys. You were a great father to me and a bloody amazing person to look up to. And yes, I stole your ruffer buck. I love you Dad.'

"'Mum, you scold Georgie and I for things we do, but even I know that you really, really like us. And I'm sorry I annoyed the hell out of you, but it was for the best. And I admired you from the first day you cooked for me, woman. Honestly, I've always admired you. And I thank you for teaching me how to be smart. You inspired Georgie and I to start inventing stuff! We made this- no, I'll tell you when I'm older. You'd kill me now... I love you, Mum.'

Hermione didn't hear Bill, Charlie and Percy's part because of her loud sobs. She did, however, snap back to reality when George started with Ron's part...

"'Ickle Ronniekinns, I'm dead now so you can't kill me for calling you that. Respect, my brother, respect... Respect was something I lacked in giving you, and I'm sorry for that. I'm not sorry for cursing your Bilius bear, though. Georgie and I got a good laugh out of that. You surely must know I liked you very much and that I looked down to you. I mean down because you're short. I hopefully hope that you get tall like Dad soon, otherwise you'll be forever my 'little baby brother'. And there's no outgrowing that. Thank you for showing me that being special is never bad. Thank you for teaching me to stand up to myself and others. You are a true Gryffindor, no matter how many times I tell you that you were a first class Slytherin. And hey, I love you little git.'"

Hermione wasn't sure of what happened I that moment. All she knew was that her hand was being crushed by Ron's hand, yet she couldn't feel anything at all. She was numb, and for the first time, Hermione lost for words. The next thing she knew, she was throwing her arms around Ron's neck and kissing his lips softly, yet reassuringly. When she pulled away, Ron was half-smiling heartbrokenly, his eyes and cheeks full of moisture, yet he somehow managed to put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and pull her close to him gently.

She didn't hear anything else over her tears after that. All she heard was; 'And Auntie Muriel, please don't ruffle my hair at my funeral.' Although, she did wonder why George chose not to read Fred's letter to him, but Hermione lost track of thought when George spoke again.

"Thank you for coming to my brother's funeral. But there is one thing Fred and I have to do before we leave you," At this point the audience looked alarmed by the calmness and smoothness in his voice, but those who were closest and nearest to him knew this was anything but smooth and calm to George.

"Fred wouldn't want you all crying at his funeral. I can almost hear him speaking in my ear saying 'Are you done being a girl for this night, Georgie...'" he chuckled and smiled as he pulled a red sphere about the size of a golf ball out of his robe's pocket, and tapping it lightly with his wand he threw it into the air and whispered, "Thank you, Fred."

A thousand fireworks exploded from the little red ball and filled the air with color. They circled the sky and formed into rude phrases the twins would always say, causing laughter and tears among the people present. And then, quite suddenly, all the colorful fireworks joined and formed the letters 'F.W.' in the sky, and even Hermione knew, not one person would forget Fred after this, George had made sure of that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello there, fellow readers :)**

**Thank you for following through these two chapters I've written and thank you for the reviews! I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this and I know it will probably be a crappy chapter, but hey, at least it'll be somewhat interesting.**

**This will probably be the last chapter I write in a while since I'm leaving for Disney on Sunday for three weeks :D So, I'm sorry I finished the chapter with a cliff hanger…**

**I don't know at ALL how to operate this site, so I'm responding to reviews here. But when you know how to respond to a review there, please do tell. Meanwhile,**

**Romione-till-death****: I'd say I was sorry for making you cry, but I'm not. (I'm not a soulless monster, but making you cry was my goal when writing the chapter. So I'm pretty much psyched you cried). Ha! New chapter, chap Hope you like it.**

**MadEyedMuggle: ****I'm glad you liked my writing. Same to you about the crying, I'm glad, though I wouldn't recommend crying too much, (I cried yesterday when reading some fanfic and I woke up all puffy and swollen). Thank you for the review!**

**Thanks to my generous Beta-Reader ****Hedwig466****. I know I've said this a million times, but **_**thank you so freaking much!**_

Have you ever felt as if living were unreal? As if every breath you took was only inside your head, every sight of the world was blurry and undefined. Every sound you heard seemed like it came from the other side of the world, even if the source was less than a meter away from you.

Hermione couldn't understand why the world felt so distant from her right now. She surely had suspicions, but they weren't enough to explain her state. For one thing, Fred's funeral had been almost a month ago. Even though she still felt like her heart was ripped away from her chest every time somebody mentioned Fred's name, enough time had passed so that the wound somehow sealed itself. The sadness she had felt over the loss of Fred at the funeral was a million times stronger than the one she felt now.

So she guessed Fred's departure from the world wasn't the cause of her... What should she call the sensation? Detached? Isolated?

For another reason, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was bound to happen. A few months ago, Harry, Ron and she had fought against evil forces to free the wizarding world from possible doom under Lord Voldemort's power.

She could still remember that horrible day when for a moment their world had come crashing down when Voldemort had appeared from the forest, Harry's lifeless form gently being carried by a sobbing Hagrid. That had been the moment Ron and Hermione had been hoping to avoid, the moment they never wished to have to endure, because they both knew they would be devastated beyond belief. Hermione had felt nothing but coldness and anger in her heart as Voldemort lied about Harry's supposed death and his true intentions. She had felt her eyes start to prickle with tears, but she had known spilling them would make no change. The only thing that would change and influence the present and future were her actions, so after grieving for Harry silently in her head and heart for a few moments, she had decided that Ron and she would take charge from that moment on. Harry wouldn't die in vain. They would destroy the snake and attempt to finish Voldemort. They would not let Harry die in vain, and if it took dying to get there, then so be it. Luckily, it turned out that Harry wasn't actually dead; he was only pretending so he could strike at the right moment and end the war that nobody wanted to be a part of. The war that had been caused by the most _evil_ man there was, a man that was so rotten to the bone with anger and hatred that Hermione wasn't even sure if he could be considered a man. Voldemort had never felt mercy or regret. He could kill and sleep soundly the next moment. He could tear apart a family and keep strolling down a sunlit path with a broad smile on his face. Hermione and the rest of the wizarding world had been anything but sad when Neville had bravely sliced the snake's head and after that found out that Harry Potter wasn't actually dead. After that, she had stood, anxiously watching how he kicked Voldemort's arse. He was gone for good, Hermione was sure of that. However, there was a voice nagging in the back of her head that someone (wouldn't emphasize) was still out there trying to get rid of them. There surely had to be some loyal Death Eaters that had escaped from the Aurors that were hiding somewhere, plotting the revenge of his or her master's defeat. _Well_, Hermione thought, _Kingsley did say that at least half a dozen Death Eaters escaped…  
><em>  
>The problem that troubled Hermione was: were those escaped Death Eaters as lethal and dangerous for the wizarding world without their master? Were they so loyal to Voldemort as to take his previously carefully selected plans and put them into action once again? Would they too feel that their master shouldn't have died in vain as Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and many others had felt for Harry when he appeared to be dead?<p>

She surely hoped not.

_What if they did feel that way_? a voice at the back of her brain whispered menacingly. _What if they want to avenge his death by killing the three of you?_ _Or worse, what if they torture you to death like the incident at Malfoy manor?_

_Stop it_, Hermione commanded herself. _You can't get yourself down like that, be positive, Granger._

"How can I be positive when the whole world has shattered and turned into something negative?" she muttered to herself. Wait… ah, great. _Now I'm talking to myself_. Hermione knew that talking to herself was never good, especially for her, since she was always good at keeping her nerve in check.

Hermione was about to leave the room she was in, but a crash froze her to her place. _Now what?_ she thought, definitely on the verge of hysterics. What if it was some Death Eater that sought revenge? What if someone had been hurt? She didn't want another Fred situation.

Before she could do anything though, George came running into the room and opened his mouth to speak, and so she heard a phrase that would change her life forever.

"They took Ron."


End file.
